Unusual And Unlucky
by LoVin tHIs fIc
Summary: Post-Mercer house shootout. It seems the Mercer brother specify in unusual. Unusual and unlucky. What happens when the Mercers aren't enough for Jack anymore? Who is this girl that he's hanging around with? And what does Bobby have to say about all this?
1. Chapter 1

Angel hated hospitals. All the Mercer brothers did. Anytime one of them was hurt, Evelyn usually could bandage them up in a few minutes, unless it was something serious. Something bad. Jack was always the worst. He hated hospitals more then Bobby, which was saying something. Angel almost found it ironic that Jack was the reason they all been practically living in a hospital for the last few days. Jerry had gone home a couple of times to check on Camille and the girls, while Bobby and Angel only left for a couple hours sleep.

Hanging up the phone, Angel made his way towards Jack's room. He lingered in the doorway for a few minutes, not wanting to disrupt the scene between his two brothers.

Jack was lying in the hospital bed, pale and unmoving. There were wires and tubes hooked up to him everywhere, and a soft beeping coming from the machine beside him. It was hard the shake the image of him looking so lifeless. It was even harder to shake the image of him covered in blood, lying on the side of the road, his brothers crying over his broken body.

" _Come on! Breath, you fucking fairy!", Bobby begged, holding Jack's face, forcing him to look into his eyes. Angel sat there, frozen. Slowing, he started to listen to the little voice in the back of his head telling him what to. His arms felt numb as they started to move. He pulled off his shirt, shoving Bobby's arms out of the way to press it to the wound on Jack's shoulder._

" _What the fuck?", Bobby asked, looking at his brother._

" _Keep pressure on this", Angel told him, his training kicking in. He moved Bobby's hands over the wound. Then he moved on to the bullet holes in Jack's leg._

" _Gotta stop the bleeding, gotta stop the bleeding…", He repeated over and over again, pressing the palm of his hand into the holes. " Sofi! Your necklace!", he suddenly shouted. She took it off, silent for once. He wrapped it around Jack's leg, pulling it tight. He prayed that it would slow down the bleeding until the paramedics got there. The only thing they could now, was wait._

The damage to Jack's legs wasn't too bad, thankfully. Two bullets managed to lodge themselves in his thigh, neither of them hitting bone, or any major arteries, or veins. The worse thing about recovery, would be the crutches he'll be forced to use. Angel wished that Jack's shoulder was a similar story.

As soon as they had made it to the hospital, the doctors had rushed Jack into surgery. It was hours before any of them new anything, which wasn't a good thing with Bobby's patience, or lack of. Lets just say that the hospital will be needing a new vending machine.

Shrapnel from the bullet in Jack's shoulder had caused a lot of damage. One of his lungs was punchered, and he was on a ventilator to help him breath for the moment, and that was only one problem. The doctors said that there was a lot more damaged then they had thought, and surgery had taken hours longer then expected. Even with all that, Jack made it through the surgery. The problem was he hadn't woken up. Doctors said that his vitals were normal, as was his brain activity, for someone in his state, and that it was unusual for him to still be unconscious. It seemed the Mercer brother specified in unusual. Unusual and unlucky. As the days passed by, they couldn't help but wonder why he wasn't waking up from this comatose state. The doctors persisted that his body just needed time to heal, but that didn't stop the brothers from worrying.

Bobby was sitting on the chair beside Jack's bed. His head was bowed low, his hair falling in front of his face. He was muttered something, and if Angel thought he believed in God, he would have guessed he was praying. Bobby had Jack's hands clasped tightly between his own. His knuckles had turned white from holding on so tightly.

" Its time.", Angel interrupted from the doorway. Bobby turning and nodded at him.

" I'm gonna kill him.", Bobby said, standing up, letting Jack's hand fall to the bed. " I'm gonna kill the bastard the did this. Did this to Mom…Did this to you.". Bobby left, not even glancing up at Angel. Angel looked over at his little brother. He paused for a moment before turning to follow Bobby.

" Hang in there Jack."

* * *

**So that's it! I had to have Jack survive **_**somehow.**_** There isn't enough good looking men in the world to be killing them off pointlessly. **

**I decided to continue the story, so please check out the next chapter!**

**Please read and review! I'll accept anything! Yes, one word is enough! **

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Four Brothers, and if I did, I would be doing something a **_**whole **_**lot more fun then writing fan fiction :P**

**R&R**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brothers, or it characters, or anything else that isn't mine (no duh!)**

**Warning: There will be mentions of Jack past throughout the story, so if you any issues, with that kind of stuff, here's your warning. Also, Bobby Mercer also appears in this story (Thank god!), so yes, there will be bad language.**

**

* * *

**

Bobby was disappointed. He would never admit it, but that didn't make it any less true. He couldn't explain why, but he had hoped that Jack would be awake when they came back. When it was all over. When Sweet was dead. He felt like Jack should be awake, so they could finally move on. Hell, they might even get a chance to fix up the house. They all had tried to do some work whenever they weren't at the hospital with Jack, or in Angel and Jerry's case, with Sofi or Camille. If Jack were awake, maybe Bobby would feel so alone?

As Bobby walked into Jack's room, he silently clenched his fist. He couldn't help the anger he felt upon see his brothers broken body. He was so pale, and so still. It was unlike Jack. He always seemed to be moving, or fiddling with something. It annoyed the hell out of Bobby. He remember when Jack got his first guitar. The house wasn't silent until Bobby had threatened to break the god damned thing into two.

Bobby sat down in his usual spot, by Jack's bed, while Angel stood near the door. Jerry had gone home to be with Camille and the girls. Angel muttered something about going for coffee before leaving the room. Then again, he had never been comfortable with just sitting around. Slowly, he reached forward, taking Jack's hand in his own. Shutting his eyes, he squeezed Jack's hand.

"Come on Jack…Wake up, wake up.", he quietly begged.

The next day Bobby was still sitting in the chair. He was slouched back, with the remote in his hand, eyes on the television. The small screen was showing a hockey game, or trying at least. The screen flickered between black and white, and colour. Angel moved to reposition the aerial, again. The picture disappeared completely, before returning, completely black and white. Bobby waved his hand at Angel, making a face. Angel made one back, before returning to his seat.

"Bobby Mercer."

"Ya?", Bobby said, rising from his seat. Angel also stood. A man entered the small hospital room. He was white, tall, slim, and had dark hair. He was wearing a suit and Bobby automatically knew he was some form of detective.

"My names Detective Cooper", Bobby smiled to himself. "Do you mind if we step outside for a moment?", Cooper asked.

"Why?", Bobby replied, playing dumb.

"I'm sure you know why I'm here, Mr. Mercer .. I really think we should step outside.", Cooper persisted.

"The cops already talked to us, _Detective_", Bobby mocked. "Anything else you want to say you can say right here.", Bobby's tone was almost challenging.

"We have some follow up questions for you and your brothers, now if you would mind…?", Cooper gestured to outside the door. Bobby just stood there, a small smile of his face, just to piss Cooper off. Bobby continued to stand without moving, while Cooper shifted his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. "Ok, then", Cooper muttered, moving towards Bobby. "I am placing you and your brothers under arrest in connection to the case of missing persons Victor Sweet.". Grabbing Bobby's arm, he secured his hands with handcuffs. Another cop entered the room and handcuffed Angel.

"All my bro's? 'Cos I really don't think Jackie-poo here is up for it", Bobby glanced at his little brother, as the detective pulled him out the door. He was just getting started.

"I really think now would be a good time for you to be quiet.", Cooper muttered almost to himself. He had heard about the Mercer brothers. Nearly every law enforcer in Detroit had.

"Unless you want to wheel him out with us? Maybe push him down the fuckin' street to the station?", Bobby was getting agitated. Cooper started to think that maybe handcuffs hadn't been the best idea.

"Bobby…", Angel warned, sensing his brother was going to get himself in trouble.

"You arrest Jerry too?", Bobby questioned, as Cooper lead him out of the hospital. "Bust into his house? Arrest him in front of his wife and kids? Maybe if the cops around here could do their fuckin' jobs for a change, you wouldn't need to be coming after us, who solved your fuckin' case, while you were in some club with a fuckin' hooker wrapped around your waist!"

"That's enough!", Cooper demanded, clearly pissed. He shoved Bobby's head into the back of the car.

"You fuckin' wish!", Bobby shouted, as he spotting Angel being pushed into the back of the car beside the one he was in. He leaned his head against the cool window, as the car pulled away. He watched the condensation on the window where his breath met the cold glass. He smiled, reminded of his little brother.

* * *

"Get me my property!", Bobby shouted over the desk. Jerry and Angel both walked over towards him, having been released earlier.

"You tell them anything?", Angel asked. Jerry stood beside him, clearly worried.

"Nope", Bobby said, not bothering to look at either of his brothers.

"Hey Bobby", Jerry started. "Angel and Sofi are coming over to my place for a while…Camille made dinner. And we were just thinking maybe you'd like to come to.? Get a decent meal, shower, maybe even catch a couple hours sleep?", Jerry suggested.

"Nope", Bobby replied, still looking over the counter.

"Come on man, you're a mess!", Angel argued. "Jack'll be fine by himself for a little while. He's got all those doctors and-" Angel stopped, spotting the look on his brothers face.

"I said no!", Bobby swiped the small plastic bag off the counter, containing the few bits and pieces that was in his pocket when they had taken him in. He ripped through the plastic, and quickly putting the contents into his pocket, before turning and walking away. One of the items caught Angel's eye. Jack's rosary beads.

"Bobby, I really think it would be a good idea", Jerry persisted, Taking a few steps to catch up with his brother. "What would Ma' say if she saw you like this?"

"What would Ma' say?", Bobby stopped and turned to Jerry. He was pissed. "What would Ma' say if she knew I got Jack shot? What would she say if she saw what _we _let happen to her house? Or Jack's blood on the sidewalk in front of it? It wasn't your name that he was screaming Jerry! It wasn't you name that he was screaming in pain as he bleed out on the fucking sidewalk!" With that, Bobby turned and walked out the front door. Jerry or Angel didn't go after him. It was pointless, and they knew where to find him, if they needed him.

* * *

It had been ten days. Ten days since the last time Jack was awake. Ten days since shooters had shown up at their mother house. Ten days since Bobby had a decent nights sleep. Ten days, and Bobby was fucking sick of it.

It was just him at the hospital tonight. Angel and Jerry would come visit during the day, although Jerry would never be able to stay for long. He would "have work", or need to "pick up the girls", from whatever crazy activity they had on that particular day of the week. Last time Bobby actually bothered to listen, it had been dance lessons. Angel would usual stay most of the day, only going home to be with Sofi in the evenings. Bobby on the other hand would spend all night in the hospital. He would sleep in the morning, only leaving once Angel or Jerry had showed up, and return in the afternoon, not to leave until the next morning. He had established a routine, and now he was sure what we would do if Jack woke up. _When_ Jack woke up, he reminded himself. The toll of his routine was clearly showing. Bobby's hair was in need of a hair cut, and he could do with a shave. There were black bags under his eyes, and they appeared sunken. He had lost weight too. He had tried his hardest not to make it obvious, but Jerry and Angel had noticed.

Glancing over at his brother, Bobby had no way to tell if Jack was doing any better then he had been. He was still hooked up to machines, and wires, and drips, and god knows what else. The only visible change was that the doctors had taken the ventilator out a couple of days after Bobby's second visit to the police station. Bobby had hoped that would have meant Jack would wake up - his lungs were strong enough to breath on their own - but there was still no sign of life behind Jack's closed eyes.

Bobby sat back in his chair. Digging into his pocket, he'll pulled out Jack's rosary beads. Spinning them around his fingers, he wondered where the fuck Jack had got them? It sure as hell wasn't from a church. Religion wasn't big among the Mercer brothers. He probably got them off some groupie chick in New York. Bobby couldn't help but smiled at the thought. Back when things were easier. When his biggest worry was running a strip joint in Chicago, not wondering if his little brother was still going to be there tomorrow. The only reason he came back to Detroit was to bury the fucker that killed his mother. He never thought that he might lose a brother too. He _couldn't _lose a brother too.

After a few minutes the rosary beads slipped through Bobby's fingers, and onto the ground. His head rested on his chest, as he, unable to get his eyes open any longer, drifted into a light sleep.

* * *

_Jack hugged his knees closer to his chest. It was cold, and dark, and damp, and his clothes were far too light for his liking. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. Anywhere but here._

_Jack had dived into the wardrobe when he heard the heavy steps coming up the stairs. So heavy that they could only mean one thing: drunk. Or worse. Jack had tried hiding under the bed before, but now _he _knew to check there, that hiding spot was no good anymore. Hopefully this new spot would take longer to find. Give Jack a few moments more. Maybe, if he was really drunk, he might pass out before finding Jack, Jack dared to hope._

"_Jack!", Jack opened his eyes, as he heard the voice enter the room. He looked through the slits in the door in the wardrobe, to see a large silhouette standing over his bed, where he had been just moments ago. His chest began to rise and fall quicker and quicker. He could hear his own heartbeat. It felt as if it was going a hundred miles an hour. He resisted the urge to vomit as the panic settled in his stomach. _

"_Come out, come out wherever you are…", the voice taunted. Jack pushed himself further into the closet. Anything to get away. He shut his eyes, and slowly rocked himself back and forth._

Not real, not real, not real… _he repeated his mantra over and over again in his mind. He retreated further into himself, further into his mind, leaving reality behind. But the problem was it _was_ real, and reality always came back to bite you in the ass. No amount of wishing was going to make it go away._

_Jack slowly opened his eyes, to see the large silhouette blocking any light from entering the wardrobe. Jack readied himself to fight, knowing what was going to happen next. What always happened. Jack couldn't suppress the shudders at the sound of _his _voice._

"_Got'cha."_

* * *

"Ma' …", Jack groaned. Bobby suddenly sat up straight in his chair. It was the middle of the night, and he was the only one at the hospital, as usual.

"Jack?", Bobby questioned, struggling to keep the hope out of his voice. Reaching forward, he grasped Jack's hand. "Jack?"

"Mom…", Jack cried out, flinching in his sleep.

"Jack wake up! You gotta wake up!", Bobby squeezed his hand. He could recognise one of Jack's night terrors anywhere, even if Jack hadn't had one in years. "Wake up Jackie. Open your eyes.", Bobby begged. Slowly, Jack opened his eyes.

"Bobby?", Jack tried to say, his voice hoarse, and scratchy. Bobby quickly handed him the cup of water on his bedside locker, helping him to drink from it. Bobby furiously blinked back the tears as he watched his little brother, up and awake again.

"You look like shit.", Jack stated.

* * *

**See! Longer then Chapter 1!**

**I wasn't really happy with this chapter :/ It took me a long time to get out, but it was necessary to set up the rest of the story, so I hope you'll stay tuned for the next chapter, which hopefully, will be posted a little bit quicker :P**

**Please read and review! Even a word or two is appreciated! **

**R&R**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Four Brother (unfortunately), or** **Bobby (*sniffle*), or Jack (*bursts into tears*).**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, and without much further delay…**

* * *

"Hey Bobby, turn up the TV, will ya?", Jack asked, struggling to suppress the smirk that was threatening to cross his face. Any normal day, Bobby would reply with some form of statement that most likely included the word "fuck", more then once. Today wasn't a normal day, though. Giving Jack his best dirty look, Bobby turned to Angel.

"Turn up the TV, Ang.", Bobby ordered.

"Fuck off. The fairy asked you.", Angel replied, while Jack scowled at the use of his nickname.

"And I'm asking you!", Bobby said, throwing a plastic cup at Angel, hitting him between the eyes.

"Fuck you Bobby.", Angel sulked, getting out of his chair, reaching over to the television. Now, it was Bobby's turn to smirk.

It had been over a week since Jack had woken up, and he seemed to be doing much better. Physically anyway. The wounds on his shoulder and leg were healing, and the doctors had told Bobby that they should be able to take him home soon. All the Mercer's were thankful for that. Jack was getting more agitated each day he spend in the hospital, and Bobby couldn't wait to leave. Mentally, Bobby was worried about Jack. He hadn't spoken about what happened yet. But then again, that was just what Jack did. Whenever anything bad happened, he would just refuse to speak about it. As well as that, he was having nightmares again. Even though Jack tried to hide them, there wasn't much he could hide from his big brother. It had been years since Jack was had nightmares, this regularly. Last time, it had been when he first came to stay with the Mercer's. Bobby hoped that taking Jack home, might help to stop them.

It was a few moments later when Jeremiah walking through the door, and into the, now, very small and crowded hospital room.

"Hey!", he exclaimed, immediately getting caught in the middle of a throwing war between Angel and Bobby.

"Your late.", Bobby said, hitting Jerry on the side of his head with a paper ball. Seizing the opportunity, Angel threw a plastic cup, hitting Bobby on the nose, while his focus was on Jerry. Angel leaned back in his chair, smirking, as Bobby glared at him.

"Man, when we get home, I'm gonna kick your ass so bad that you and Sofi wont be able to-", Bobby stopped, as one of Jack's doctors entered the room, Dr. Smith. He was a small man, with light hair, and had a pair of glasses hanging out of his coat pocket. He was wearing the typical white doctors coat.

"Mr. Mercer", he said, not greeting anyone in the room in particular. He had been overseeing Jack's case since the beginning, and had been the one to perform the surgery on his shoulder. That also meant he had seen a lot of the Mercer brothers. He knew by now that the less you say, the less they can find wrong with it. "How are you today, Jack?", he asked, picking up Jack's chart.

"Fine.", Jack would have shrugged, but his shoulder hurt too much. Smith glanced and some of the machines around Jack, and quickly wrote something down, on his chart. Jack hated not knowing what they were writing about him. Straining his neck, he tried to get a glance at the chart, but Smith quickly snapped it shut.

"Well doc', what you think?", Bobby asked. "Can Cracker Jack go home yet?"

"Bobby", Jack warned. He glared at Bobby, trying his best to seem threatening, but there wasn't a many thing that Bobby Mercer was scared of, and little brother defiantly wasn't one of them.

"Well,", Smith finally said after a moment. "Unless they are any major changes in the next few hours, you should be able to take him home this evening."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, while the rest of his brothers could help but smile. Finally, Bobby thought to himself. Any longer in this God damned hospital, and he might just go crazy. The doctor excused himself, while Angel and Jerry congratulated Jack on getting out. Bobby quickly slipped out, jogging to keep up with the doctor.

"Hey doc'! Wait up!", he called. Smith quickly stopped and turned around, hearing the voice of the Bobby Mercer.

"Yes?"

"Well, I was just wondering…", Smith would almost swear that Bobby looked awkward. "Is there anything we need to do when we take Jack home? Like, looking after him and stuff?"

"Just make sure he gets plenty of bed rest for a while, and takes his medication whenever he's suppose to. Don't worry, one of the nurses will go through all of that with you and your brothers before you take him home.", Smith flashed a quick smile at Bobby, before walking away to make the rest of his rounds.

Bobby made a quick stop at a vending machine before heading back to Jack room. Fishing some change out of his pocket, he impatiently pushed the buttons on the machine. He banged his fist against the screen, when his bar of chocolate got stuck against the glass.

"Mr. Mercer!", a large dark-skinned woman warned him, from over a counter. She was a nurse, and Bobby had more then one encounter with her. "Need I remind you, again, that this hospital cannot afford to replace that machine, again?", she said, in a tone that reminded Bobby of Evelyn's "no-nonsense" tone.

"No Ma'am!", Bobby said, quickly retrieving his chocolate bar, before heading back to Jack's room.

* * *

Jack had just turned nine when he first came to stay with Evelyn. He could remember how big and nice the house had looked through the car window, as his social worked, Paul, dropped him off. He remembered how nice Evelyn had been to him on his first day there, and how he feared that it was all a dream, and that he was going to wake up back in that damp, dirty apartment with _him. _Angel remember how quiet Jack had been on his first day. Too quiet for Angel's liking. Jeremiah remember how Evelyn had warned them that Jack had a tough background, refusing to elaborate on that, and how they were to be careful with him. Bobby remember Jack's first night with the Mercer's. He remember being woken by a scream, a blood chilling. He remember rushing into Jack's room (what used to be Bobby's room), and finding the young boy hiding under the bed, terrified.

This time, as Bobby pulled up to the house, Jack was just glad to be home. He had dozed off in the backseat of Bobby's "new" car. He used the term "new" loosely as it was almost identical to Bobby's previous car.

"Rise and shine, Cracker Jack.", Bobby called, shutting off the engine. Jack groaned. Keeping his eyes shut, he flipped Bobby off. Smirking, Bobby slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster. Jack jumped in his seat.

"Fuck you Bobby.", he muttered, struggling to get out of the backseat of the car with his crutches. Angel stayed behind, holding the car door for Jack as he got out. "Thanks man.", Jack gave Angel a smile as he made his way to the door. "Jesus…", Jack's voice trailed off spotting the damage that had been done to the only place he had ever really considered home. "What the fuck happened here?"

"People tried to kill us. I'm sure you remember Jack.", Bobby said with a harsh sarcastic tone. They had done their best to patch up the house, and make a start on the repairs while Jack had been in hospital, but the house way no way near the condition it had been in.

Making it into the house, Jack collapsed onto the couch, abandoning his crutches on the floor. His arms and legs hung over the side of the sofa. Angel rushed up the stair, to where Sofi was most likely waiting. Bobby made his way towards the kitchen.

"You should head to bed, man.", he suggested, pulling a beer from the fridge. He could barely hear the grunt from the living room, that Jack gave as an acceptable response. Bobby twisted the cap off the bottle, in one well practised movement, and took a long swig of the cool liquid inside. Making his way back into the living room, he notice Jack was already asleep, snoring softy. Shaking his head, he grabbed a blanket from one of the closets near by, and threw it over his younger brother. Evelyn had always made sure that there was a stash of blankets near by, at all times. Why, Bobby had never understood. He gave one last glance at his sleeping brother before heading up the stairs, and into his own bedroom.

The next morning he got up to find Jack's room empty. He cursed Jack's name as he tripping over the crutches he had left in the doorway.

"Get up!", Bobby shouted, pulling the blanket off his no longer sleeping brother. Jack groaned, pain shooting through his back. Now he realising that it had been a bad idea to sleep on the couch. He moved so that he was sitting, rather then lying. Bobby turned on the television before sitting down on the free end of the couch. Jack stared into space for a few moment before suddenly getting up.

"Going for a shower.", he muttered, before making his way up the stairs, yawning.

"Take your fucking crutchs with ya!", Bobby shouted after him, before he heard a door slam. "Fucking fairy…", he muttered to himself.

Later that day, Bobby found Jack sitting on the bed in Evelyn's room. His back was to the door, and his head was bent forward. Bobby guessed that he must have been looking at something.

"Ahem.", Bobby coughed loudly from the door. Jack swung his head around, a momentary look of panic in his eyes. Bobby looked down to see what he was holding. Rosary beads.

"I wasn't looking through your shit, I swear!", Jack started to defend himself.

"Calm the fuck down, Cracker Jack.", Bobby said, sitting down on the bed beside him. Jack automatically scowled, hearing one of his nicknames. They sat in silence for a moment, Jack twisting the rosary beads through his fingers. Bobby noticed the drawers on the bedside locker were open. The first one way partly closed, the cash and gun inside only partially visible. Bobby knew that was where Jack had found his rosary beads, because that was where Bobby left them. The second drawer was fully open, the plastic bag with Jacks bloody clothes inside. Bobby hadn't known what to do with them when the nurses from the hospital had given them to him.

"These were hers ya know?", Jack said, referencing the rosary beads in his hand. Bobby was immediately listening. It was unlike Jack to start a conversation. Usually he'd rather sit in silence then be the first to talk. "Gave them to me a couple of weeks after I came here. Told me they'd always keep me safe.", he chuckled at that last bit.

"What you doing in here?", Bobby questioned, trying to catch Jack's eye. He just continuously stared at the beads in his hand.

"Was just looking for some of her stuff.", Jack left the rosary beads down on the table. "I miss her."

"Me too.", Bobby replied. They sat in silence for a moment. After a few minutes, Jack stood up, and limped out the door.

"Wait!", Bobby called. Jack stopped, and turned around. "You forgot these." Bobby picked up the rosary beads.

"Keep them.", Jack said, limping out the door. Bobby looked at the beads for a moment, before pocketing them.

* * *

"I'm going out.", Jack grabbed his leather jacket from the coat rack. He picked up one of his crutches, leaving the other one leaning against the wall. He hated using them, and using didn't bother, much to Bobby's dismay. Knowing that he wasn't able to walk far without them, Jack usually opted for using only one.

"Where the fuck do you think your going?", Bobby questioned, coming out of the living room.

"Out."

"Were you planning on telling any of us?", Bobby question, clearly not happy.

"I did" Not my fault your too busy watching the TV to listen to me.", Jack replied, opening the front door. Bobby used one hand to slam the door shut.

"No your not! Your _suppose _to be on bed rest! Doc's orders!", Bobby shouting, his patience running short. Jack had only been home a week and they were already on each others nerves. Jack had spent most of the time sleeping, or writing in that notebook of his, the one that he refused to let Bobby see. He refused to talk about what happened, or anything else, as a matter of fact. Bobby struggled to get a response that was more then two-syllables, unless it was an argument, which seemed to be happening more often these days. Tempers had been running high, to say the least, and Angel was too busy to get caught in the middle. He was helping Sofi find somewhere to stay, and hopefully a job, after Bobby kicked her out 3 days ago. Putting up with Jack was bad enough, he couldn't deal with Sofi as well.

"I was never good a taking orders.", Jack shrugged, opening the door again. This time Bobby let him pass.

"Where the fuck you gonna go?", he shouting after Jack. "Hobble the whole way downtown?" Bobby went back to the living room, knowing that Jack wasn't going anywhere. A moment later, he heard his car engine start up. Quickly, he rushed to the coat rack, where his jacket way left. Checking the pockets he found them empty. "The little bastard!", he cursed running out the door, just in time to see the back end of his car drive around the corner.

* * *

Jack sat at the Johnny G's bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. He downed what was left in his glass, knowing that he wanted to be pissed when he got home. It would be the easiest way to get past Bobby, who was going to be very, very pissed off. Jack smiled to himself, imagining the look on Bobby's face as he drove off with his car.

"Refill?", the girl behind the counter asked. Jack nodded, still smiling to himself. "Something funny?", she asked, her sandy coloured hair falling down into her face as she refilled his glass.

"Ya,", he took a drink from his glass, still smiling. "Fucking hilarious."

"Care to share?", she asked, moving around from behind the counter, a tray of drinks in her hand.

"I stole my brothers car. He's going to be pissed when he finds me.", Jack chuckled to himself, imagining what Bobby will say. The girl laughed softly.

"Let me know if you make it out alive, but I doubt it", she smiled before moving away from the counter, and through the crowd. Tonight was busy. The next time Jack saw her, it was much later in the night.

"Hey! Its you!", Jack smiled at her, clearly very drunk.

"It me.", she said. Jack was too drunk to notice her very sarcastic tone of voice. She placed her tray on the counter, full of empty glasses.

"And how are you doing tonight?", Jack continued to smile, as he took another drink from his glass, nearly empty once again.

"Clearly more sober then you.", she replied, sarcasm biting into her tone, once again. She picked up her tray, which was now full of drinks, and walked away. Jack watched as she walked away, not noticing the very angry Bobby Mercer walking towards him.

"What the fuck are you doing?", Bobby demanded. He grabbed Jack's arm, swinging him around to face him, spilling Jack's drink.

"What the fuck man?", Jack questioned, looking at his spilt drink.

"You stole my fucking car!", Bobby dragged Jack off the stool, Jack barely grabbing his crutch. "And don't even get me started on drinking, while your on your pain meds!"

* * *

**I just want to thank everyone that reviewed, or made this story one of their Favourites. It ridiculous how happy I get when I see an email from FanFic telling me somebody actually liked my story (shock horror). Well, the story so far. Hopefully I wont go doing anything that will make you all hate me (*fingers crossed*).**

**Enough with my drabbles. Please review and let me know your thoughts, and don't be afraid to let me know any mistakes I've made, because it is now **_**very**_** late (like 2am late), and no matter how many times I proofread a chapter, I always find mistakes the moment I post it!**

**R&R**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't- Wait!….Nope! Still don't own anything. Well I don't own anything that I didn't come up with (No duh!)**

**Sorry this took so long guys, but everything that could go wrong this week, did.**

**Enough with my moaning! Read away!**

* * *

It was the first morning that Jack didn't wake up in a sweat, trying to suppress a scream, from yet another nightmare. Instead he had woken up with Bobby shouting at him to get his ass out of bed, and a headache so bad, he was sure somebody was driving nails through his skull. Of course, that just made Bobby's shouting, and the lecture that followed after, twice as loud. That was how Jack found himself back in the same place, Johnny G's bar. He couldn't stay any longer in that house, or him and Bobby might actually kill each other.

"Isn't it a bit early for you to back here?"

Jack looked up from the bottle of beer in his hands, to see the girl from last night looking at him. Her dirty blond hair fell into her face, as she continued to work, sorting glasses, or something. Jack was more acquainted with what went on at this side of the bar, rather then behind it.

"You know what they say the best cure for a hangover is.", he said, tilting his beer in her direction. "You were here last night, right?", his memory was slightly fuzzy to say the least.

"Yup, that was me", she extended her hand towards him. "I'm Elle." Jack reached out and took it.

"Jack.", he said shaking her hand.

"I know who you are Jack Mercer.", she said, withdrawing her hand from his grasp after a moment. Jack looked at her quizzically. "Gimme some credit,", she said. "I work in a bar, in Detroit. I've heard the Mercer name once or twice. Not to mention, the very angry Bobby Mercer sort of gave it away."

"Ah, that's Bobby.", Jack said raising the bottle to his lips. "Subtle as always."

"Sorry to hear about you mother.", Elle said, offering her condolences. "She was genuinely one of the nicest ladies I ever met." Jack was suddenly paying extra attention.

"You knew my mother?", he asked. She nodded.

"She helped me out when I was younger.", she explained. Jack sipped his beer, pondering her statement. "Mind me asking what happened?", Elle nodded towards his crutches, interrupting his train of thought.

"I got shot.", he stated, not offering any more information then that.

"Oh,", she paused, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." It was his own stupid fault. He should have know better. The Mercers were in the middle of a war with Victor Sweet. They had just killed two of his gunmen, and Sweet knew they was coming for him next, and he was not going to go down without a fight. Jack knew all this, but he still, _stupidly_, chased out the door, and after the guy that riddled him with bullets.

Jack was silent as Elle served some other customers at the bar. After awhile, she found herself back in front of Jack.

"Let me buy you a drink?", Jack asked, noticing she had returned.

"I'm working", she stated, without looking up.

"Later then?", he persisted. Her large dark eyes looked up at him.

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Dunno", Jack shrugged. What did it matter? "Tuesday?", he guessed.

"Its Saturday.", she told him, laughing. "As in tomorrows Sunday, Christmas Day." Jack paused for a moment. Thinking back, there were decoration up around the neighbourhood. And he did vaguely remember seeing a Christmas tree when he came home from the hospital.

"Shit!", he cursed, downing the last of his beer, and throwing some notes onto the counter, before rushing out the door. Elle laughed, as the door swung shut behind him.

* * *

Christmas was uneventful for the Mercers. Well, as uneventful as a Mercer Christmas could get. The important thing was that nobody, was murdered, or shot, or injured in any life threatening way, which was a step up from they're last family holiday.

Jack was surprised on Christmas morning, when he discovered all his brothers had got together to get him a new guitar. Even more shocking was the fact that it was a good guitar. Angel explained that they had let the guy at the shop choose. Jack had laughed at that, knowing that his brothers barely knew which end of the guitar was up, never mind how to pick out a half decent guitar.

Jerry had chosen that evening to tell everyone that Camille was pregnant, again, which caused squeals of delight from Sofi, leading Bobby to complain about his busted eardrums for the rest of the night. And Sofi, announced that she had gotten herself a job, after Bobby threw her out. Again.

"Twenty bucks says she gets fired on the first day?", Bobby bet, after he finally stopped laughing.

"Nah man.", Jack told him. "I'm not stupid, and I don't throw my money away.", he grinned.

"Your on!", Angel told him, after getting a deadly glare from Sofi.

That pretty much set the tone for the next few days. Jack had tried his best to stay out of the drama, choosing to hide himself away in his room.

The day before New Years Eve, the Mercer family found themselves out on the ice-rink, at Bobby's request of course. Well, most of the Mercers. Camille and Sofi were at home, doing… girl stuff, nothing the boys wanted _anything_ to do with. Jack was sitting on the side, watching the others play. He noticed a familiar head on blond hair, passing by. Throwing the rest of his cigarette on the ground, he quickly (well as quickly as he could) got up, and headed in her direction. The doctor had given him a walking stick to use instead of the crutches, in the hope that he might actually use it. Jack still wasn't happy, but he did agree that it was better then the crutches.

"Hey!", he called, catching up to Elle.

"Hey", she replied, slowing down, so he could catch up. He walked along side her for a moment.

"I haven't seen you around lately.", he said. He, and his brothers had spent a fair amount of time at Johnny's over the holidays, and he hadn't seen her there once.

"I was out of town for a few days.", she explained. "Visiting some relatives out of state." They walked in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Noticing that they were getting further away from the rink, Jack stopped. She stopped too, staying with him.

"I was wondering, if maybe I could get your number?", he asked, pulling a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. "So I can call you sometime?". He lifted a cigarette to his mouth, lighting it. Pulling out a pen, she reached for his hand, scribbling down her number. Although Jack had been cursing himself for forgetting his gloves earlier, he was glad now.

"Johnny's have a party tomorrow night, ya know, new year and all that. You're welcome to come.", she told him.

"I'll see if I can pencil it in.", Jack joked. She laughed.

"I'll see ya around, Jack Mercer.", smiling at him before walking away.

Later that day, Jack, true to his word, called her.

"Hello?", she said picking up.

"Hey, its me."

"Hi… You actually called.", she sounded surprised, and Jack told her so. "Usually guys don't call.", she explained.

"Oh…sorry."

"Don't be. Its not your fault.", she quoted, smiling. He smiled too. "So, word on the street is your in some hot-shot band in New York. What are ye? Some U2 wannabe's?"

"Please, give us more credit then that! U2? Really?", he asked. "Think more, Gun's N' Roses, meets the Clash, meets Green Day. You should come on tour with us sometime…"

* * *

"What?", Bobby said, answering the phone.

"Is Jack there?", a slightly nervous voice came from the line.

"No. What'cha want him for?", Bobby tapped his fingers impatiently. Jack actually was upstairs, asleep, and Bobby would be damned if he was going to walk him up. Anyway, sleep would help him heal quicker.

"I'm Michael, his manager. We were just calling to see what's the deal. He kind of just disappeared." His manager? Bobby was not impressed.

"Well sorry but his mother was murdered", Bobby snarled, sarcastically. There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment.

"Ya, he mentioned that, but then he just took off. We haven't heard anything from him…"

"Well sorry, but he was too busy getting himself shot", Bobby shot back, his sarcasm never faltering.

"What? He got shot? Is he ok?", which was followed by another voice in the background.

"Jack got shot?… That's fucking bad ass!"

"Shut the fuck up Matt!"

"Ya, he fine now.", Bobby said, rolling his eyes.

"That good. If you could just let him know that we called, that would be- hold on a sec…Fuck off Matt!", Bobby could hear the phone being moved around. Then the voice from the background earlier spoke.

"Hey, could you tell Jack that Matt said to stop telling chicks that they can go on tour with us? Cos' they fucking can't! And tell him to stop-", he was suddenly cut off.

"Sorry about that. Just tell him we called. Thanks!", Michael quickly hung up the phone before Bobby had a chance to say anything. Bobby just stared at the phone, before decided that, Jack has some fucking strange friends.

* * *

"Jack! Jack!", Bobby grabbed his brothers arms, pinning them to his sides, while shaking him awake. "Come on Jack, wake up!" Bobby had heard noises coming from Jack's room, on his way to his own bed. Opening the door to check, Bobby had found Jack caught in the middle of one of his night terrors.

Jack suddenly bolted up in the bed, gasping for breath. Bobby released his arms.

"You okay, man?", Bobby asked. Jack just nodded. "That's the third time this week.", Bobby told him. Jack just shrugged in response. He didn't want to correct him and tell him that it was actually the fourth time that week. "You want to talk?". Bobby was worried. Jack had been having nightmares since getting out of hospital. He hadn't had night terrors like this in years, and the last time they were this often was when he first came to stay. At least this time Bobby was able to guess what was causing them. His mother dying, and getting shot wasn't an easy thing to go through. Bobby still didn't know what the cause of the night terrors was when Jack was younger. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know either.

"Nope.", Jack said, grabbing his cigarettes off his bedside locker. Bobby could have predicted that answer. Lighting one, Jack sat in silence with his brother for a moment.

"You know you really scared us?", Bobby began. "I mean back in the hospital, with all that shit. You really gave us a fright." Jack looked at his hands, unsure of what else to. "I mean Angel was in fucking bits" Jack tried to smother a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah", he said, still smiling. "Now get the fuck out of my room!"

* * *

"5!"

"4!"

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

The bar erupted into cheers of celebration, and delight as they rung in the New Year. Looking around the bar, Jack spotted couples kissing, people hugging, and glasses cheering. All signs of celebration. Jack was just happy for a new year, hoping that he could leaving all the shit that happened in the last year behind him. Bobby clapped Jack on the back, wishing his brother a happy new year, before walking over to a crowd of people, some of which he must have known.

Jack glanced around the room, seeking out a certain girl. He spotting Elle, hugging, a dark haired girl. Getting off his stool, he walked towards her. Likewise, Elle headed in his direction, meeting him somewhere in the middle. Before she had a chance to say anything, he caught her around the waist, pulling her close. Then he kissed her. The kiss was soft, lingering. For a moment, nothing else in the world mattered other then the feel of her lips of his. They broke apart, their foreheads resting against each others. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. The kiss began slow, but quickly deepened, growing more passionate. She pulled away smiling, glad to see that he was smiling back.

* * *

"**Jacks got a girlfriend! Jacks got a girlfriend!…" :P**

**Sorry! Couldn't help but tease! :P**

**Again, I would like to apologize for the long wait! I had planned to have this out there waaaaaaaaay quicker, but unfortunately life didn't agree. And seem as though writing is now my only for of communication, today seemed appropriate ****J (Anybody confused by that: I'm giving up talking for 24 hours to help raise money for charity, so I urge you to do a good deed today! I am. )**

**I would also like to that my wonderful reviews! Thanks to much for you feedback, I really really appreciate it! You guys are awesome!**

**R&R**


End file.
